I am a real interior designer. (It's sad that I have to qualify this, eh?) Having said that, I took classes. Design history classes. Ones that showed me Le Corbusier and the Five Pillars of Architecture, Charles and Ray Eames, Ancient Egyptian chairs and Napoleon's Chairs. I also know about Aero Saarinen. He's the Architect who most famously designed the St. Louis Arch. He also designed furniture. He designed the Womb Chair. (big sigh)
I want it. I have a perfect place for it. I think it'd be perfect, at least. Oh, let me restate this. I want the Womb Chair knock off. The knock off itself isn't inexpensive. I can't do it right now. RIGHT NOW, that is. We have been looking for a chair to go in the corner of the living room (update coming) that we dripped and doused in IKEA goods this weekend. Nate wants a lounger. How perfect? Once again, a wonderful marriage of what Nate wants and what I want. Right?
As all my ideas do, this will evolve to something else perhaps. However, with this, I keep looking at it, wishing for it and hoping that it'd just show up one day as a gift from a secret friend. That happens, right? This chair would actually stand for a lot to me. I appreciate it. I have also noticed as we put finishing touches on tables tops, corners and add color, I design a lot like my mother. Her more traditional-yet-daring decorating mores have been imprinted on my style, and I have embraced that. I have this idea that I am in the modern style. I am not. The house is not. I like some of the newer looks with art taped on the wall, but I simply don't prescribe to it. It's trendy and quite frankly, looks like a teenager's room. This chair would represent my design journey, encompassing what I have learned and what I have seen and what I love. (cue Wiilliam Tell Overture)
It's very simple. I want it, but I haven't asked my husband. Oh, and we don't have the money for it right now. I repeat, right now. Good things come to those who wait. I can wait. Maybe.